


Like the Sun and the Moon

by JessCA1994



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: After Robert Fischer, Angst, Army, Exes to Lovers, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hate to Love, M/M, Smut, present, to hate to love again, uni - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 23:30:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11861898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessCA1994/pseuds/JessCA1994
Summary: Eames and Arthur are as different as the day and the night, but despite the odds, they share the same secret. After all: doesn't the saying go "opposites attract"?





	Like the Sun and the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Okay...so this is the translation of a Spanish fic I wrote three years ago in fanfiction.net (I uploaded the fic here, too). I just added some parts, like the smut, and edited some others. This the first gay fic I ever wrote so I'm very fond of it. I didn't beated it so I apologize in advance for mistakes.  
> The fic alternates between the present and the past. So to get the narrative you should know times are separated by the bar.  
> I hope you enjoy this because I really enjoyed writing it.

The Inception they performed with Robert ended up being more than successful. Not even one week later, Fischer dissolved the empire his father created, communicating to the press he had no longer intentions to keep on going with his enterprise. It brought a lot of gasps and raised eyebrows from the public, but Robert actually seemed relieved he ended up making that decision. After all, he really didn't want to continue his father's legacy, he really wanted-like Eames said once-to follow his own footsteps.

The mission turned out so great that Saito, being the perfectionist he is, not only payed them with the generous sum he had promised, but he also decided to offer all of them to work purely and exclusively for him. Not even Dom, who had promised not going back to the business again, could refuse the proposal. What could he say? The Proclus Global owner told him we would let him to off as much as he wanted to recover the lost time with his kids. And it was a good deal.

Saito ended up buying a penthouse for them, so they could be confortable in the place they were staying and they didn’t have to sleep in the workshop or in different places.

So there they are now, a month later, working in a new case, with a new different mark who seems as interesting as Robert was. The relationship between all of them is still the same one. Nothing has changed, really…Let alone the banters between Eames and Arthur.

And even though it’s already been ten years since they first met, even though a decade has passed, there is one thing they are both sure about: none of them will ever forget that day.

 

* * *

 

Arthur is unpacking all his clothes and stuff when the door opens and he can see a young tall man, with broad shoulders and messy chestnut hair, entering the room. The man looks at him before dropping his bag into the floor and walking towards him, big smile on his face, stretching out his arm to shake his hand.

“‘Elo! ‘M Eames. Nice to meet you.” he introduces himself. And oh, he has an English accent.

“Arthur” is the only thing that comes out of his mouth.

“Arthur” he repeats like if he was flavouring the word, and Arthur doesn’t know why but the way he says his name makes something itch in his stomach. He blinks. “So, tell me, did you arrive long ago?” he asks as he takes his leather jacket off. Arthur makes an effort not to stare at the tattoos that spread along his upper arms and can be seen thanks to the white tank shop he is wearing. 

“Just a few hours ago” he replies.

“Mhm…you’re not really a talker, huh?” he smirks, sitting on his bed “Mind if I smoke?” he asks and Arthur shakes his head. The English man snaps his tongue and takes a cigarette out of the pack he was previously keeping inside the pocket of his old jeans. He leads the cigarette to his mouth, he places it between his lips, and lights it up before taking a long drag, eyes shutting down in pleasure. He exhales the smoke and looks at him “Do you want one?” he asks but Arthur shakes his head again, so Eames just shrugs his shoulders and takes another drag. “How long have you been doing this?”

“An year and a half? I don’t know exactly.”

“Wow, you’re really expressive, aren’t you?” Eames licks his lips, letting out a dry chuckle. Arthur doesn’t want to admit he stares at that gesture with a dry mouth, doesn't want to admit he watches, in a sort of trance, to the way his tongue swirls over his lower lip.“And how did you end up here?” he asks staring at him. When Arthur doesn’t answer, he talks again. “Ohh, c’mon, don’t make me chase you for every answer” he teases, and Arthur sighs. It is not that he doesn’t like Eames per se, but the guy barely knows him and he is already making him all these questions and he is way too loosen up. Clearly not the the kinda person he is usually friends with. Although Arthur is not really a person who loves doing new friends, to be honest.

“I don’t know, what do you want me to tell?”

“How did you start doing this, in the first place.”

“Well, I always thought dreams were fascinating” he says.

“Aha, and then?” he takes another drag.

“When I was fifteen, I discovered lucid dreams, so I started investigating everything I could about them. Started going to libraries, started going to weird places where they would have rare information...And I ended up discovering about extraction. So I did my research, and I ended up finding this place that specialized in shared dreams.”

“Such a dedicated kiddo” he winks an eye and Arthur can’t really tell if he is taking the piss or not. “So what happened?”

“I wanted to get in but I was told I wasn’t old enough. That I needed to be 18, at least. So, well, I continued searching stuff on my own, went back after my eighteenth birthday, did some practices, and then they sent me here to improve.”

“If they sent you here they really must think you have potential” he smirks as he exhales the smoke through his nose trills. “So, you’re telling me you started this no more than two years ago, when you were eighteen?” he mutters, deep in though. “So you are, what, nineteen?” Arthur nods his head. “Wow, you’re a kiddo.”

“I’m sorry, but you how old are you, then?” Arthur asks, rising up on of his eyebrows.

“Twenty two. And I’ve been here for three years now. Entered when I was nineteen, too.” Eames smiles, proud of himself. “And what do you exactly?”

“Well, I guess I’m an architect? I like creating imposible stuff, building paradoxes, focusing in details.” he answers. Eames nods.“What do you do?” he asks, because he thinks it’s only polite to do so.

“Let’s say I’m interested more in the….creative part.” he answers as he does a gesture with his hands. Arthur pinches his eyebrows. “They call it forgery” he blows out smoke again.

"You mean like a thief?"

“Not quite. I mean, as a forger you do what the thief does, for sure, but it is more that just stealing. It's about actually being able to forge stuff and deceive the Mark. You know…I take other’s people identity, shape myself into whatever I want to. Fascinating, isn’t?”

Arthur stares at him. He had no idea there was a thing such as forgery. Eames gives him one last smile before turning off his cigarette.

“Listen, Arthur, as you probably figured it out already, this is the first time I’m given a roommate." Arthur has really no idea of why would that be obvious "So, I’ll have to tell you: I usually host parties here the first Friday of each month, I hope you don’t mind.”

Arthur keeps quiet, cursing to his inside.

“Good lad” Eames smirks when Arthur doesn’t complain. “Okay, so, see you at night.”

 

* * *

 

Arthur can’t help but staring blankly at the wall. He is done. His fights and constant bickering with Eames are driving him absolutely insane. Especially when they are completely pointless, especially when they fight just because. And maybe that’s better, maybe that’s better than Eames ignoring him, maybe he prefers the English man teasing him rather than not paying attention to him at all, but it still hurts. Even if he doesn’t show it, of course. Because Arthur was always the best in hiding his emotions.

Truth is, being able to master the art of not revealing his feelings at all was something he practiced since he was a kid. The only people he showed his emotions to were the people he wanted to open up with. Period. Except with Eames. Eames, somehow, managed to get into him, managed to read him like an open book since moment zero. Arthur always felt exposed with him. At first he didn't like it.It made him feel weak, naked. Then, he started loving it, started loving the way Eames would know the way he felt like just looking at him. He started loving the way Eames would know what he wanted. 

But now that everything is in deep shit, now that there is this enormous distance between them, he hates it again. Because the thing is, Arthur is also really good at reading people, but Eames was and still is an enigma to him. Out of all the people he knows, Eames was the one that always kept surprising him. And he thinks it’s kinda unfair the fact that Eames can read him but he can read Eames. He feels in disadvantage. 

He still remembers the way he tried to convince Dom to find another thief. He still remembers the way he had to control himself not to beg him that he didn’t hire him. But it was all in vain. Oh, yes, it was. Because like his best friend and leader told him back then, in their previous mission, what they needed was not a thief but a forger. And even if Arthur didn’t want to admit it, even if he felt it like a burden, he knew-he still knows-that nobody compares to Eames when it comes to forgery. He is the best one in that, hands down, and that’s probably the reason he was so angry and annoyed. Because he was aware that Eames was really the only option.

He also remembers how their reunion, far from being an exciting or emotional moment, was the most awkward and uncomfortable experience he had in awhile. Maybe that was because none of them made an effort to say or show what was really happening, what they were feeling. They both brushed everything off-or at least Arthur did-with a sarcastic comment. But truth to be told, Arthur felt his heart shirking inside his chest when he saw Eames entering the worksop through the doors, next to Dom and Yusuf. He didn’t change that much. Yes, he had broader shoulders, a beefier body, and his hair wasn’t messy anymore cause he had it combed back. He was dressed in this fancy suit and he had a chain around his neck. But his way of speaking, his voice, his gestures…They were all the same. Even the same bright, funny eyes.

They started working straight away, because they really had to time to waste. An as soon as they did, the arguments, the discussions, the banters…they all started, too. And they never stopped, not even now.

And Arthur just wishes it could stop.

 

* * *

 

Arthur hates when people make him lose his focus in what he is doing. But what he hates even more is the people that make him lose his focus. And right now, he is hating Eames. He is hating Eames with passion.

His English roommate, who is sat behind him, seems to be paying more attention to the girl setting next to him, Jessica, Jennifer, whatever her name is, rather than to the class. And that annoys him. That annoys him a lot. He wants to turn around, he wants to turn around and scream at him to shut up his mouth, to keep himself quiet and stop giggling like an idiot. Hedoesn’t do it, though. He just purses his lips and keeps on writing on his paper block, instead, doing his best not to lose his shit.

Truth to be told, it isn’t his most exciting class nor his favorite. But he still knows he just has to take as most advantage as he can. Arthur is one of those people who believes that a well learnt theory ends up being the base of an excellent practice. And that is why we wants to pay so much attention, that is why he thinks this class is still important.

Once again, he has to do a superhuman effort not to kill Eames. It angers him so much. Why does he need to flirt with that girl there, from all places? Can’t he wait to their spare time? And what’s more, what the fuck is he doing in that class? Two weeks ago, when he arrived, Eames told him he had been there for three years already, so, wasn’t he supposed to have the class a long time ago?

The ring bells and Arthur doesn’t even wait to pick up his books and leave the class as fast as he can. He is beyond pissed off, and deep down inside him, he knows that losing his focus is not the only reason he feels like that.

“Hey, Arthur, wait up!” he hears a British voice shouting from the back of the hallway.

“What do you want’” he asks, spinning around to face him.

“Wow, moody!” he mocks him, smug smile playing on his lips “Arthur woke up with the wrong foot, huh?” he shakes his hair. “I was wondering…could you lend me your notes? I got distracted talking to-“

“To Jennifer, I know”

“Jessica” Eames smirks.

“Whatever” Arthur huffs, rolling his eyes, although he does know her name is, in fact, Jessica. “Here you are” he adds, giving him his books to him with suddenness, jaw clenched. Eames smiles again. Arthur hates it. He hates the way Eames is always trying to fix things that way.

“Thank you, Arthur, I owe you a big one.” he says, winking an eye at him.

“This is the last time!” he warns him, ignoring the weird feeling bubbling up in his belly.

“Whatever you say” Eames replies, trying to look like if he wasn’t paying attention at all.

 

* * *

 

Eames has always loved taking the piss of Arthur. Probably, because he was one of the few people who didn’t stay quiet when he mocked him. And probably, because those were few of the times in which Arthur wasn’t so unreadable. Even if he always had the ability of reading him, sometimes Arthur let his guard down and he loved that.

He always found a certain fascination in his answers and the way he clenched his jaw, and he always found a fascination in watching him go “angry”. Not because he enjoyed seeing Arthur angry per se, but because he found him kinda cute when he frowned his eyebrows and stared at him, rolling up his eyes.

Arthur is still an enigma to him, even after all this time, even when he is probably one of the really few people who can know wha’s going on inside his mind. Because on the one hand hand, he does have a loud voice and speaks his mind, but on the other one, he has always managed to keep his feelings buried deep inside of him. And that’s something that always drove him crazy, for better or for worse. Arthur was always too correct, too structured.There were only a few times in which Eames managed to make Arthur get carried away by his impulses. And of of those times, one moment that will be forever burnt in his brain, was the first time they kissed.

Eames is sitting on his bed, barefeet, bouncing a small ball against the opposite wall. Their room looks like it was divided in two by an imaginary line. While Arthur’s side remains clean and completely neat, just like all his things always are, his side seems like if it has been destructed like a hurricane.

Eames doesn’t get how does Arthur manage to keep everything so tidy all the time. He can’t even keep his things in order for three days straight, which makes Arthur scream at him he is the messiest person ever almost on daily basis. He smiles lightly and keeps on throwing the ball, humming the song of a movie he watched last week, until suddenly Arthur arrives.

With out ever looking at him, the younger boy goes to the corner of room, turns on the music stereo and puts in his Tchaikovsky cd. Of fucking course.

“Oh, c’mon, would you change that?” Eames whines. “Why don’t you put some of my music instead? Genesis, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd…you know, the classics.-he ads with a playful smile. He hates the kinda music Arthur listens to: he just finds it tedious. Eames was always preferred more exciting music, and to him there’s nothing as British rock.

“Stop bothering” he huffs. “If you can’t appreciate classical music, you know…the real classics, it is not my problem, isn’t it? You know, there is a reason why people keep on listening to musicians like Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Bach after all this time.-he says which makes Eames roll his eyes and snort. Arthur is such a know-it-all sometimes. “Anyways…I’m not in the mood for your jokes, so just stop it.”

“Moody. What got you so pissed, huh?” he asks, leaning himself forward to look at him.

“None of your business.” he replies, voice dry. “You’d just laugh at me, anyways.”

“Oh, c’mon…just tell me.”he begs

“No, you wouldn’t get it” he shakes his head, sitting on his bed and looking back at him.

“Try me” Eames smirks, defying him. Arthur lets out a sigh.

“Okay…I-I got a B in “Robbery”

“You’re right. I don’t get it.” Eames replies, baffled, rising up his eyebrows.

“A B is not good enough, Eames.”

“You gotta be kidding” he says, bursting our loud a laugh that makes Arthur throw a murder look at him.

“See? This is exactly the reason why I didn’t want to tell you!”

“Okay, okay…time out. Arthur, you can’t be this down just because you didn’t get an A”

“I always get A’s, Eames” he says, angry.

“And today you got your first B. So what? It’s nobody death! Especially considering that a B is an excellent grade.” Arthur doesn’t answer. He just clenches his jaw even more and breathes heavily. “Oh, c’mon…if you’re really worried about that B, I can help you. Robbery, apart from forgery, of course, is what I’m best at” Once again, Arthur doesn’t answer. He lies down and started at the roof. Eames shakes his head. “Okay, do you know what are we going to do?”

“We’re not doing anything” he replies.

“Oh, you’re mistaken, darling.” Eames says, playful smile playing on his lips. He stands up and walks towards his desk, opens one of the drawers and searches for two little bottles with transparent liquid in it. “Now, you and I, dear Arthur, are gonna get drunk together.”

“You must be really out of your mind if you think I’m gonna get drunk with you, here, in our institute room. Especially when we have classes first hour in the morning, tomorrow”

“Buhh, stop being such a buzzkill, Arthur. You need to relax, you need to…loosen up a bit”

“I’m sorry for not being as irresponsible as you, Eames”

“You wound me, darling.” Eames replies, sarcastically. “C’mon…just one round, okay? Or are you going to tell me that you’re afraid?”

“It’s not being afraid, it’s being responsible.”

“C’mon, Artie, fucking loosen up” Eames defies him, walking towards his bed.

“Artie?” Arthur pinches his eyebrows.

“It’s a good nickname. Don’t you think?” he smiles. “C’mon!”

“Just…one round, okay?”

“So tell me, Artie…have you ever played ‘never have I ever’”? he smirks. Arthur nods in silence “Very well. I’m guessing you won’t have any problem in playing it again, then.” he gives one of the two bottles to Arthur, who uncaps it. “Never have I ever…cheated on a test” he says and drinks. He isn’t surprised when he sees Arthur doesn’t drink. “Of course.” he snorts.

“Never have I ever…smoked weed.” neither one of them smoke. “Really?” he rises an eyebrow.

“Just tobacco for me.” Eames smiles. “Alright…never have I ever lost a bet” he says, and both and him Arthur drink.

“Why are you drinking?” he asks, frowning his eyebrows.

“Because I lost a bet.”

“Yeah but you did the same with the question before. I thought you were supposed to say things you didn’t do?”

“I’m changing a lil bit the rules.” he laughs. “I’ll just say anything, and if I did it, I’ll drink, too.”

“Oh, okay. So…never have I ever kissed a girl.” he says. Eames drinks and smirks when Arthur doesn’t.

“Never have I ever kissed a boy.” Arthur stares at him before leading the bottle to his lips to take a sip. Eames smirks harder and has a drink as well.

“Never have I ever been with a girl.” Arthur says.

“You have literally just asked that, Artie.”

“No, I don’t mean kissing.” he shakes his head.

“Ohhh, look at you”. he snorts, but he doesn’t drink.

“So, haven’t you?”

“Well, I didn’t drink now did I?” he teases and Arthur rolls his eyes. Eames laughs “No. Girls are not my cuppa tea.”

“But you’ve just said you kissed girls!”

“I did, yeah. When I was 14, before realizing I’m not into them.”

“So Jennifer…”

“ _Jessica_ is just a friend.” he chuckles. “My turn. Never have I ever been with a lad.”he drinks.

Arthur stares at him, black eyes digging into his soul, and has a drink after a moment of staying in silence. Eames licks his lips and swallows but doesn’t say a word.

Of course, they end up playing more than just one round. As hours go by, he feels tipsier and he is having a little bit of trouble in speaking properly. He feels like if everything was going in slow motion, although his mind still works perfectly. Eames just laughs and stretches his legs.

“Hey, Arthur…thank you for lending me your notes the other day”

“Yeah, well. Already told you that was the last time”

“Oh, c’mon. You know that you’re going to lend me your notes again” he smiles a him, showing off his teeth.

“Stop! Stop doing that! I’m tired of it. Just because you have a cute smile, it doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want!” he huffs, annoyed. Eames leans his head up and looks at him, smiling even wider than before, and smiling in a naughtier way, too.

“Wait…you think my smile is cute?” he asks, biting the tip of his tongue “That’s really cute, you know”

“No, no…that’s what the girls say!” Arthur quickly replies, like if he had regretted what he said.

“Nah, I don’t care about what they say. Is that what you think?” he says, getting closer to Arthur.

“C’mon, Eames, don’t be ridiculous” he replies.

The English man lets out a soft chuckle “Curious. I think you have a really cute smile too, you know?” he reduces the space between the, stopping just a few inches away from his face. “Even tho you smile once every moon.”

“Eames, what the hell are you doing?” he asks, and Eames can’t help but staring at the way his Adam’s apple bobs beneath his throat.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he replies, in avery low voice, rising up his eyebrows.

“Eames, cmon, what the hell are you doing?” he asks again.

“Can you just…shut up and let yourself go by the moment?”

“I don’t think this is wise, Eames.” Arthur lets out in a gasp.

“Shh…” he quiets him, covering up his mouth. “You’re too bloody correct” he moves his hand to the back of his neck “Just..let yourself go” and before Arthur can reply, he kisses him. When he wants to notice, Arthur is wrapping his neck with his arms to kiss him back. Eames lets out a grunt in surprise and bites softly Arthur’s lower lip to lick inside, and when Arthur lets him, when Arthur sucks in his tongue, pulling him closer, and his flavor explodes in his mouth, he thinks he could pass out. He loses track of time. He doesn’t know how much time do they spend moving their mouthes against each other, but kiss until their are called to have dinner and their lips are numb.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur never really knew the reason why he felt under Eames’ charms. What he does know, tough, is that even as much as he tries to deny it, he is dying to feel Eames’ lips against his own again. No one ever kissed him like Eames used to kiss him. No one ever made him shiver the way Eames use to did, making him weak in the knees just by touching him. And even though after all these years, Arthur keeps on wondering what was exactly what turned him so crazy about him. Was it his irresistible smile or his charming personality? Was it his wonderful, sexy european accent or was it his carefree self? Was it the fact that Eames always knew he was much more than what he showed to the rest of the world? Was in the fact that Eames made him laugh like nobody else did?Maybe, just maybe, it was a little bit of all.

Arthur goes back to his room, feeling really tired after a long day of work. He had to build an entire city and even though he has always loved constructing, especially impossible buildings and paradoxes, the mental effort he had to make to do so was really exhausting.

Thing is, a few days ago, he started doing these practices that belonged to the so called “Point men”. And oh, this was a true challenge to him. Not to mention, really interesting as well. Because yes, it is a challenge having to find out everything about the person who’s mind you’re supposed to go into. You can’t miss a single detail because otherwise the mission can fail and be totally ruined. It’s a practice that requires perfection to be done so you have to look up everything. But he always loved that kinda work. After all, he was always fascinated by details and all the backgrounds of the people.

When he enters the room, he finds Eames laughing just a few inches away from a boy called Elliot or whatever his name is, and he can’t help but clenching his jaw and feeling something really displeasing in his lower belly. He can’t help but feel sourness in his mouth when he watches the dude placing his hand upon Eames’ one. The guy is cute, he ain't gonna lie. He is tall, blonde with big blue eyes, and he knows he is from the Forgery class, as well.This is not the first time that finds Elliot in his room. This is not the first time he comes into them like this, so now he just snaps.

“Okay, you can leave now” he says, really upset. Elliot turns around to stare at him, shocked look on his face. Eames manages to choke a laugh and stares back at Arthur as well, rising up lightly his eye brows in a very teasing away. “This room is not a fucking burdel and I’m sick and tired of you two thinking you can shag or whatever in here while I’m away. If you wanna do whatever you wanna do, then fine, just go somewhere else.”

“Eames?” the blond boy asks, squeezing his hand. The English man smirks at Arthur, not even turning his head to look back at the blond guy.

"Go, Elliot, see you in class tomorrow." he says with out breaking eye contact. Arthur does break eye contact to see the way Elliot looks at Eames like if he hadn't expect that answer at all. He looks disappointed, like if he couldn’t believe someone is rejecting him or like if he couldn’t believe that Eames is choosing Arthur over him. Elliot stands up, angry and frustrated look on his face, and leaves the room.

“Wow, darling. Your mood never fails to amaze me” he says as he takes of on the few cigarettes he has left from his desk. He lights it up and stares at him, inhaling the smoke.

“I already told you to stop calling me that way, Eames. And I’m done. I don't care if i cock blocked you. If you want to get under his pants, then okay, go to his room or whatever, just don’t do it here.”

“Nah, you didn't cock blocked me.” he winks an an eye. “ But I didn't take you for the jealous type.” he lets out, seductive smile on his face, cigarette hanging down from his lips.

“Jealous? Me? From who, you? You must really be out of your mind if you think I’m into Elliot”

“Oh…but I never said you like Elliot. Nor that it is me who you’re jealous of.” he exhales the smoke out through his nose trills.

“Then who…” he rises up one of his eyebrows.

“You’re really cute when you get jealous, Artie” he admits, smiling really wide.

“You’re even crazier that I thought you were”

“You know?” Eames starts saying, voice low and paused “Everything would me so much easier “ he gives a last drag to his cigarette before turning it off “if you just admitted you can’t forget about the kiss we shared the other day” he blows out the smoke.

“We were drunk, Eames. It didn’t mean anything.”

“You keep on telling yourself that” he says, licking his lips.

“Stop it, Eames. Stop teasing me!”

“You can admit it, you know. I have been thinking about it, too” he says, very calmed down. “Every sin-” he can’t speak anymore because he is interrupted by Arthur, who leans forward and grabs him by the tank top to crush his lips against his. Eames replies to the kiss almost immediately, hands finding their way to Arthur’s neck, fingers tangling in the hair of his nape. Arthur walks him backwards until his back is touching the wall and kisses him harder, tongue exploring with eagerness his mouth, pressing up his body against his. They are both breathing heavily and Eames is about to slide his hands to Arthur’s back when Arthur drops on his knees. He stares down in shock and gulps when Arthur looks at him, licking slowly his lips, before opening the zipper of his pants. And then Arthur’s mouth is on him.

“Fuck” Eames gasps, sinking his teeth in his lower lip. He trails his hands to Arthur’s head and tangles his fingers in his hair, moan of pleasure escaping through his mouth when Arthur makes a wet sound “Fuck.” he repeats. Eames doesn't talk anymore, he just starts heavy breathing, letting our a groan, and that seems to have an effect on Arthur because he starts giving him even more pleasure.

Eames can feel the orgasm building up in his lower belly, ready to explode. “Oh my, I’m so close.”

Suddenly they can hear someone knocking the door. They don’t reply, so the person knocks again.

“Yeah?” Eames manages to ask, in a weak voice.

“Dinner is ready” the person says. “You need to go down.”

“Coming!” Eames replies, pun very much intended, because as soon as he says this, he is coming into Arthur’s mouth. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” he apologizes, breathes uneven.

Arthur doesn’t seem to care, though. He just stands up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, shrugging his shoulders.

“Wow, you’re amazing.” he sighs. “I didn’t know you were so intense, darling.” He stares at Arthur, who doesn’t say a single word. He smirks, before approaching him and giving him a wet kiss on his lips, tasting his own flavor. “This kiss will be even more difficult to forget”. he winks an eye at him and leaves the room.

Eames misses those days in which he could easily make Arthur pay attention for him. It wasn’t really that difficult, because he would reply to anything he said. Eames knew how to get into him. Wether he agreed or not, Arthur would argue with him, just for the sake of having silly banters, and Eames loved that.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur wasn’t like everyone else. And not because he played hard to get-something he would admit afterwords to him, that he loved making Eames chase for him-but because he was a much more deeper person. Sure, he seemed serious, sometimes boring…but Eames? Oh, he knew Arthur wasn’t boring at all, but all the opposite. Arthur always was such a complex and interesting man. He had all this layers Eames loved to unfold and discovered and he always had something new to surprise him. And he is sure he is still like that, he is sure he still has these complexities. He can see it. Even after ten years, those things that captivated him from the beginning are still there: his intelligence, his determination, his curiosity, his ambition, his tenderness…All those things that melted him like crazy back in the day. The problem is that now Arthur shut completely for him. He always could read him, but he liked it when Arthur opened up with him intentionally. He can see him opening up with Dom, with Ariadne, who he looks after like if he was his older brother or his tutor. He can even see him opening, from time to time, with Yusuf. But he has nothing but a cold look for him, and that is ripping him apart, and the worst thing is: he doesn’t think Arthur wants to even open up with him again.

 

* * *

 

Arthur was always one of those men who, while studying, didn’t lift up from his chair until he finished what he had to. Eames, on the other hand, was always one of those men who could be really persuasive when he wanted to. Two days have passed since the last time he kissed Arthur, and Eames doesn’t really want to wait for kissing him again. Because even though they only kissed twice, he already feels addicted to Arthur’s lips, intoxicated by them. And he has never feel so crazy about anyone before. Not because he enjoyed sleeping around or anything like that, but he just never found someone who captivated him. Not until he met Arthur, that is.

The English man enters his room and smirks when he sees Arthur studying, with his nose almost stuck in the book he is reading. He admires how constant he is. He really does. But he also thinks Arthur should try, from time to time, to be a little bit rebel, to loosen up, like he had said to him before. He approaches him and spins his chair 180º degrees so that he is facing him.

Arthur purses his lips, but can't help staring at Eames' lips with thirt “Can’t you see I’m studying?”

“C’mon, Artie. Rebel up a bit, it won’t hurt anyone” he says, resting his hands on the desk, one at each side of his body so that he is trapping him between his arms.

“You’ve been telling me the same for awhile now” he quirks an eyebrow, and Eames just smiles.

“Have I now?” he answers, leaning in to kiss his neck.

“You have.” Arthur closes his eyes when he feels Eames pressing his lips on the spot behind his ear.

“I don’t think we should be doing this. I don’t think it’s prudent.” he closes his eyes harder.

“You said the same thing all the other times.” he whispers against his skin, before he slips his mouth through Arthur’s skin until he is kissing his jaw. He leans back to stare at him. Arthur’s eyes are hooded and even darker than they already are, pupils blown up. “And last time, it was you who kissed me, wasn’t it?” he leans closer, until his mouth is just a few inches away from Arthur’s mouth. Eames waits an instant, and then he is crushing his lips against his, getting rid of the almost non existent distance between them. Arthur grabs him by the t-shirt to pull him closer and bury his free hand in his nape, so Eames smiles against him, nibbling his lower lip. He grabs him by the waist and makes him stand up so that he can wrap his arms around his body. He starts walking him towards his bed, and when Arthur’s leg bump against it, he makes him lie down on the mattress.

Eames lies down over him and buries his head again in Arthur’s neck, sucking in the pale skin, biting softly to leave a mark, and Arthur doesn’t seem to mind because he is grabbing him by the head to keep him going on. Eames stands on his knees and opens up Arthur’s shirt, who is staring at him, eager. He smiles before leaning down and leaving a trail of wet kiss all across his chest, down his belly.

“My turn.” he whispers. He opens up Arthur’s jeans, and slides both his pants and briefs down, leaving him half naked. He doesn’t get into it immediately, though. No. He kisses his inner thighs, instead, nibbling their skin, leaving even more love bites over his body. And only when Arthur begs him to stop teasing, he takes him down. He holds Arthur down by the hips and sucks him off, making him mumble nonsense, making him go dizzy and making him squirm against the mattress.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Arthur lets out, chest rising up and down, and that pushes Eames to keep on going, because he wants nothing more than giving him pleasure. “Eames, if you don’t stop now, I’m gonna-” Eames knows what he is going to say. And that is what he wants. He wants to take everything Arthur has for him just like Arthur did with him, so when Arthur comes into his mouth, he swallows it all.

Eames smirks as he crawls up over Arthur’s sweaty body “You taste amazing” he whispers into his ear.

Arthur laughs. “You’re disgusting” he replies, but Eames knows he says it a fondly way.

After that, they start doing that regularly: sharing kisses, giving each other pleasure, sneaking into empty classes to song intensely. And one day it stops being casual even if it was never casual at all.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur rushes to get into the kitchen. He cringes his teeth, breathing heavily, trying not to loose his composure. He lifts up his fist, throws a punch at the wall and manages not to scream out loud, even though he is internally cursing in every language he knows as he shakes his hand.

He jumps in his place when he hears someone calling out loud his name.

“Jesus”

“Nope, just me” Ariadne smiles

“You scared me to death.”

“Sorry about that” she chuckles, going to the fridge to grab a bottle of beer. She opens it, she sits on the marble counter and stares at him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah…I’m just really tired.”

“Uhuh…” she says, taking a sip of the beer, not convinced at all by the answer Arthur just gave her. 

“So, how was your day?”

“Cool, cool. Tiring but good. Eames has taught me some things about forgery and it’s really interesting.” Arthur nods.“I like it. Although I still prefer what I do.” 

“Well, yeah, I can understand that. Building impossible stuff is just...incredible.”  


“Yeah, yeah, it is. Listen, uhm, Arthur, can I ask you a question?” Ariadne lets out, her eyes meeting his. Arthur nods. “I don’t know how to ask this with out looking nosy or with out seeming rude…”

“Go ahead, shoot” he replies, taking a beer out of the fridge as well.

“What’s going on between you and Eames?” 

Shit. He should have seen this coming. 

“What do you mean what's going on between us?”

“I think you know what I mean” she smiles.

“Well, as you are probably aware, we don’t really try to hide much that we don’t get along at all.” he drinks a sip of beer.

“Okay, I’m gonna try being more clear.” she huffs. “How long have you been in love with each other?”

“Ariadne, I don’t know what you’re tal-”

“Oh, c’mon!” she interrupts him. “I’m not stupid, you know? The tension between the two of you can be cut off with a knife. You can feel it in the air, smell it, breathe it…”

Arthur leans himself against the wall and chuckles as he drinks beer again. Ariadne is really perceptive, so he isn’t really surprised that she noticed it.

“I guess there’s not point intruding to deny it.” he chuckles

“Nope” she says, opting out he p.

“Before this, I hadn’t seen him in awhile, did you know that? Five years, to be precise. And suddenly, I’m forced to share as much time as before.

“What? How? Did you already spent time with him before?”

Arthur nods, melancholic smile that doesn't reach his eyes on his face. “Yeah. Yeah I did. Twice, actually.”

“Twice?” she asks, opening her eyes as dishes.

“Yes. The first one was when we studied together, ten years ago.” he sighs. “What a time…”

“Were you together back then?” Ariadne asks and Arthur nods. “Oh. And the second one?”

“The second time was in the army.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Eames enters their room, Arthur can see the hurt on his face. And watching him like that hurts him, too, because Eames is always smiling and joking and cheerful, but right now he is just looking down, lost eyes.

“I don’t get it.” he says. “I have been here three years and this is the first time they send students to different places. I-“ he shuts down. “Fuck, when I heard I- I was hoping we would be sent to the same place, but we’re not even going to be in the same continent.” he laughs humorlessly.

And it sucks, it really does. When their teacher told them that he would go to Lyon and Eames would go to Mombassa, he got sad, too.

The silence took power of the room. Eames is still sat down on his bed, feet against the ground and head hidden between the arms that rest against his thighs. Arthur doesn’t know what he do: he has never seen him like that, so sad. And he hates not knowing what to do: it makes him feel useless. He stands up and walks to his bed to sit next to him.

He caresses his back gently “Please, don’t be sad, Eames. It’s only going to be fifteen months. You’ll se they will pass really quickly.” he smiles. The English man leans up his head to smile at him weakly but then he stares at the floor again.

“Yeah, I guess so.” he sighs.

“Hey…” he whispers, taking his hand between his own and caressing it. He lifts it up and kiss his fingertips “We will keep in touch.” he promises with out taking his mouth of hiss fingers. “After all, phone does exist, doesn’t it?”. Eames leans in and kisses him on the lips.

“Thanks for everything. I had the most amazing year with you.” he breathes in, before hugging him.

Arthur hugs him back, burying his face in crook of Eames’ neck. He doesn’t know what they are. What he does know, though, is that no matter what they are, he is very much in love with Eames, and that year of him, that year of banters and kisses and love touches and being his roommate was one of the happiest of his life.

He knows they won’t see each other for awhile, so they make love. They make love like they did many times before. They get lost in the moment, they get lost in the sheets and get lost into each other. But this time, between sweated, heated bodies and heavy breathes, they promise they won’t let this die.

 

* * *

 

“Eames, can I talk to you?” Ariadne asks as she sits down, next to him, on the big couch of the living room,

“Of course you can, gorgeous.” he smiles at her, wrapping his arm around her body. He feel her as a younger sister, probably because she reminds him of the younger sister he never had but always wanted to have.

“Are you planning to get Arthur back?” she says, leaning up her face so she can stare at him. Eames can’t help but smiling wide at that question.

“Wow, you did notice, didn’t you?” he isn’t really surprised, though. Not when he has seen how much attention Ariadne pays to everyone.

“So you’re not gonna deny it?” she asks, scrunching her nose.

“Why?” he wants to know. “Did he?”

“No. Not really”

“Uhuh…and tell me, sweetheart, are you trying to set us back together or what?” he smiles.

“What happened once you got separated before going to the army?” she asks, ignoring Eames previous joke.

“So he did tell you about that.” he chuckles. “Well…we kept in touch. Either I called him or he called me.”

“Did you speak often?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah we did. Every three days, at least.” he smiles. “Yeah…we spoke really a lot. We would be on the phone for hours and hours. Sometimes not saying anything at all sometimes just...Being there, you know?” he scratches the back of his head and sighs.“And thanks to that, the fifteen months went by pretty quickly. He arrived to the army a week earlier than I did, so we couldn’t speak those days. But seeing him again? Oh, boy…that was the best thing that happened to me in a long time.”

 

* * *

 

 

Eames jumps off the jeep when he arrives to the army. He isn’t surprised at all when he notices that the place is full of the students of his old institute. He follows the man that received him inside the workshop and walks behind him. Inside, men and women, dressed up in militar uniforms, are working in different areas.

He tries to find Arthur with his look but he doesn't spot him anywhere, and that’s really odd, because didn’t he arrive a week ago? He clicks his tongue and keeps on walking until he finds his room. He gets even angrier when he finds out he will be sleeping on his own. Sure, he loves having his personal space, but he was hoping he would share a room with his boyfriend again. He doesn’t really talk to anyone because his old friends seem really busy in what they are doing and no one told him what to do just yet. He kinda feels out of place, but he thinks it is a matter of time until he gets used to all.

By dinner, he still hasn’t find Arthur. He sits next to a group of people he doesn’t know and laughs with them as they eat. He doesn’t eat much. Jet lag is kinda killing him and he wants either to find Arthur or to go to sleep.

When he has finished having dinner he goes back to his room to start unpacking his stuff. Suddenly, someone touches his shoulder. When he spins around he sees him, standing here, in front of him.

“Arthur!” his first reaction is hugging him tightly, wrapping his arms around his body like if he wanted to melt into him, burying his head on his neck to breathe in his scent. “What the hell? where were you?”

“I was kept busy organizing some files, I’m sorry.” he smiles, kissing cheek and lifting up his hands to caress the back of his head. “As soon as I heard you arrived I came here to see you.”

Eames breaks the hug, closes the door quickly and then pushes Arthur against it to kiss him with passion, with all the urge he has of hot having kissed him for fifteen months. Arthur opens his mouth, eagerly, and kisses him back, teeth clenching against his, tongues exploring each other’s mouthes.

“Fuck, I missed you” Arthur grunts, with out breaking up the kiss, sliding his hands under Eames’ shirt. Eames spins him around so he can lead him to the bed, and suddenly they are undressing each other with desperation. Before they know or they realize, they are both lying on bed, naked, after having reached a powerful orgasm that drained them both. 

Eames lights up a cigarette that they have a cigarette together, even though Arthur doesn’t really smoke. But that was something they did a lot, sharing a smoke after sex.

“Look at your new haircut, huh?” Eames smiles, caressing Arthur’s shaven hair. “Army’s look really suits you, Artie.”

“Well, I’m glad you like it. Because you will also have to wear it.” Arthur smiles before kissing him once again.

 

* * *

 

 

Eames really was surprised when when he saw Cobb in that Mombassa bar, especially considering he hadn't heard anything about him five years. This meant it had also been five years since he'd heard anything about Arthur. He wasn't really surprised, though, to find out they were still working together. Even though he mocked Cobb about it - even though he said, "You're still working with that stick in the mood" - deep inside, he was glad they were still partners and friends or whatever. Even if his pride wouldn’t let him admit it out loud, he knew he was dying to see Arthur again. He had said to Dom that Arthur was boring and had no imagination, but he knew it was a lie that he had only told because of lingering pain from what had happened five years ago. Things hadn't ended in a precisely nice way, and to this day he still blames himself for that because maybe - just maybe - when he looks back at what happened, he realizes that Arthur might have been a little bit right.

 

* * *

 

In the begging, working with Dom and Arthur is fascinating. Cobb is something like their boss and he is one of the best extractors he has ever seen. He knows so much about dreams and how to navigate people’s mind that he has always something new to teach. They do all these amazing stuff that make him grow a lot, they learn new techniques and they always go beyond the limits of what he thought it was possible, but as time goes by, he starts getting bored of all that. He was never a man who loved monotony, and he feels like the army is keeping him from exploiting his potencial. He barely works as a forger because the new people in charge force him to work as a thief, mostly.

Cobb doesn’t have much power yet so there is nothing really he can do about it, but he thinks it’s a shame. Dom knows that people not letting Eames to work as a forger is a waste of time, talent and potencial.

Things with Arthur are pretty well. Sure, they have their fights, just like every couple has, but they are in really good terms, he would say. They still laugh a lot, they sneak into the toilets to steal kisses from each other like two teenagers like they did in the academy, and they still fuck-and oh, how amazing is their sex life.

Thing is, after a while, routine starts being just too exhausting. It makes everything so, so tedious. It has been two years and half of working in the exact same thing, and he feels angry and done all the time. Arthur tries to cheer him up by saying they will eventually leave the place and start working in major things, but it isn’t enough for Eames: he needs new air.

So one day, one day in which he finds himself really done and in which he really doesn’t think well at all, he asks Arthur to leave the place and go to Mombassa with him. That is when everything goes to shit.

“To Mombassa?” Arthur frowns

“Think about it, Artie! We’d do whatever we want. No ties, no rules, no anything! Just the two of us against the world!” he says excited, trying to convince him.

“What would be do there?”

“We would figure it out”

“Eames, this is crazy. This is crazy and you know it.”

“It’s even crazier spending all our time here doing the exact same thing every day."

“I like the army, Eames! I like organization and routine!” he replies.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, then you don’t know me.” Arthur lets out, and he can see the way Eames is hurt by his words, like if he had just been slapped in the face.

“Why? Why don’t you wanna come with me?” he gasps.

“Because I have work here, damn it! Because I feel really confortable working for Dom and hiswife, because I’m useful in what I do, because I don’t want to go to the middle of nowhere nor any other place, really, without having a plan!”

“You should learn to be more free, Arthur. You should learn to dream a little bigger.”

“And you should grow up!” he snaps. “Not everything in life is a party, Eames. You should’ve learnt that by now!” he regrets his words when he sees the sorrow in Eames’ face, but the truth is that after five years, the English man managed to piss him off.

“So I guess this is where we say good bye.” he lets out, voice dry and cold.

“That’s it? You’re going back to Mombassa?” he asks, incredulous. Eames nods his head, jaw clenched and nose trills wide opened. Arthur feels like if someone was punching him in the chest. He manages to hold his tears. “Then, yes. I guess this is where er say good bye, too.”

 

* * *

 

It fucking hurts. Seeing Arthur but not being able to touch him, to have him, makes both his heart and soul ache. He hates the fact that he is so close and far away at the same time, he hates that he can’t be with him as he was before, because he misses everything about him: his smell, his skin, his lips. That’s why he decided that if he wasn’t going to have him properly, at least he was doing to do something to keep on catching his attention, and that’s why he also decided that the best way to calm his pain, was to annoy him and tease him a bit. In the beginning, while they were working in Fischer’s case, he could control himself pretty well. But as soon as they started working exclusively for Saito, Arthur’s indifference started driving him crazy. And it’s has been like that for weeks and he doesn’t know what do anymore to catch his attention. That is why his pranks are more extreme than they were before, that is why is is always replying in a sarcastic way to him. He tries to do anything to catch’s Arthur’s attention, and finally, one day this works. He figures it has to do with the fact that he dyed one of his ties purple, but he has pulled so many pranks on him he doesn’t even know anymore.

“Can I know what the hell is wrong with you?!” he asks, greeting his teeth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling.” he replies, smiling.

“Okay, first and for all: don’t call me darling! And secondly, stop playing an idiot!” he replies. Eames only smiles wider. “Damn it, Eames! Stop it now!”

“I’d stop if I knew what you’re taking about!”

“Oh, c’mon! Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Ever since you returned the only thing you do is behaving like a jerk and te-”

Eames surges forwards, abruptly, and interrupts him, grabbing his face with both hands to smash his mouth against his. It’s a short kiss, but harsh and intense nonetheless. It’s a kiss that reliefs hidden feelings that were buried for five, long years.

He leans backwards and sees Arthur’ shocked look on his face, staring at him, like if he didn’t understand what happened. Eames breathes, uncomfortable silence filling up the air, so he spins around and walks quickly along the hallway to hide himself in his room.

Arthur leads his fingers to his mouth and touches it, feeling the ghost of Eames’ kiss on his lips. He blinks and stays quiet for a bit, heart hammering against his chest, before he goes back to the living where he was talking to Ariadne.

 

* * *

 

Eames hugs good-bye every and single each one of the people that is working there. Everybody but him, because he only shakes his hand. Arthur knows that Eames is really angry with him, and he kinda gets it. Even though he can’t really blame him, he still repeats himself he did the right thing in rejecting his proposal.

Eames thinks it was a mistake, clearly.

But as Eames says good bye to him, barley even grabbing his hand, he knows he will never forget the coldness in his eyes and the anger in his gaze.

He leans himself against the doorframe of the workshop and stares as Eames climbs into the army’s jeep. The car starts going and the, Eames spins around his head to look one last time at him. Now he knows he will never stop regretting that he didn’t get to say good bye properly to him.

Arthur only gets back into the workshop when the jeep can’t be seen anymore, getting lost beyond the horizon.

 

* * *

 

 

Eames knows he shouldn't have done that. Knows he shouldn't have kissed him. But he had been trying to hold himself back for months and now he can't even erase the feeling of Arthur's lips against his own.

When Eames enters the pub he can see Arthur sitting on a stool, next to the bat, scotch on his hand. His hair looks messy and he looks like he had been drinking for awhile now. He doesn't move from his place, he just stays quiet, staring at him and the way he takes a sip of his glass. A guy, older and taller than him, sits right next to his side and starts talking to him. He doesn't like it. He can see the man leaning into Arthur's ear to whisper something at him, and a wave of sourness invades his stomach. But Arthur shakes him off and says something he can't hear. Considering the dude's expression, though, and the way Arthur is not looking at him at all, he figures he got rejected. The guy, however, despite the incident places his hand on Arthur's thigh and surges forward again, this time even more insistent than before. And Eames won't let that happen.

“I think you are old enough to understand that no is no, mate” he says, clapping his shoulder maybe harder than he should.

“And you are?” the man asks.

“That's none of your business now, is it” he smiles sarcastically. 

“Eames” Arthur says. And wow, he really is drunk.

“Is he your boyfriend?” the stranger asks, defying him.

 _Yes_. He wishes he could say, but it would be a lie. A big fucking lie. They haven't been anything for five years now.

“Again. None of your fucking business” he repeats.

“Well then, off you go. I'm trying to do something here” he says leaning into Arthur to kiss his jaw. Before Arthur can react, Eames loses it. He grabs the guy by the shirt, drags him off Arthur and stamps him against the wall, harshly.

“Now, listen to me, you big fucking dickhead. I don't think you understood it the first time: no is no. Now leave him alone or I swear I'll punch you straight in the head, get it?” he says, releasing him. 

“Eames” he hears Arthur saying.

“Let's go” he hisses.

“I haven't even paid” he argues. Eames huffs, takes some notes out of his wallet, places them over the bar and drags Arthur out of there.

They don't say a word. Not as they walk into the car. Not as Arthur sits on the co-pilot seat, not as there are only a few minutes left to arrive.

“Thanks” Arthurfinally lets out.

Eames can feel his heart hammering against his chest.

“No problem” he answers, mouth dry. Arthur ghosts his fingers over Eames hand. Eames doesn't dare moving his hand. In fact, he doesn't move at all. He does an superhuman strength not to react, which is almost impossible when Arthur skin burns against his own. 

They arrive. Eames turns off the car and looks at Arthur when he hears him speaking.

“You kissed me the other night” he says, in a very serene voice.

“Yes. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” he apologizes

“I’m not.” Arthur chuckles and Eames has to pretend he didn’t almost choke on air. “You know...I think about fucking you all the time.” Eames’ heart skips a beat. He wants to die. He just wants to die. Because fuck his luck, Arthur is telling him all of this when he is drunk of his ass.

“I don't think you mean that, Artie” he sad smiles, but Arthur just shrugs his shoulders. “C'mon, let's get inside.”

Eames leads Arthur to his room, making sure he doesn't get lost or hurt in way. When he is about to say good bye, Arthur surges up and kisses him tenderly but when he sliders his hands over his chest to wrap them around his neck, Eames stops him.

“Darling…"

Arthur tries to kiss him again, looking confused.

“Arthur, stop.”

"What's wrong, don't you want this?"

“Shit, Arthur, yes, of course I want it. More than everything." he sighs,rubbing his hands over his face. VI’ve been thinking about this ever since I saw you again after all this time. Fuck, I can't even get you out on my bloody head, no matter how hard I try.” he closes his eyes, swallows the knot on his throat. “But you're drunk, Arthur. And I won't take advantage of you. If you do this...You'll regret it.”

“Eames…” Arthur tries to complain.

“Trust me, Arthur, you'll thank me tomorrow” before Arthur can say anything, he kisses, sweetly, the corner of his mouth andhe disappears through the corridor.

 

* * *

 

 

Dom is explaining something to Ariadne, who listens fascinated to everything he is saying. Arthur looks at them, smiling. Ariadne's passion remembers him to his beginnings, when he was thrilled about everything.

When he spins around, he can see Eames staring straight at him, eyes wide open, barely breathing at all. But as soon as he looks back, as soon as he stares back at him, quirking a little bit his eye brows, Eames turns his sight away, avoiding him. Arthur shakes his head so little it's almost imperceptible and sighs before looking at his mentor again. What he doesn't know is that as soon as he does this, Eames' eyes are fixed on him again. What he doesn't know is that the reason Eames is not talking to him is not because he holds a grudge against him. It is because he doesn't know how to and that's driving him crazy

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur drops himself into the bed, lying on his back, and covers his face with a cushion. He have been trying to erase from his mind the kiss that Eames gave him the week before, but no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t get that image, that feeling, that whatever out of his mind. Let alone after the kiss he gave him while he was drunk the night before. Arthur was sure that Eames hated him. He was sure that he loathed his guts…that was until it happened what happened. Now he doesn’t know anymore.

It took years for him to forget how good did it feel to feel Eames’ mouth against his own, and now, after what happened, he remembered again. And he doesn’t know what to feel about it. He groans and he returns, harshly, the cushion back to his place.

He clenches his jaw as he stares at the roof, mind replaying again and again the kiss. He hates not being able to control his feelings. He hates when his emotions dare rebelling againsthim. He stays quiet, in the position he is, a few more minutes, thinking in what to do. Finally, he pushes himself forwards and jumps to land on the ground with both feet. He goes out to the hallway, walks a little, turns right and keeps on walking until he gets to the third door.

He knocks the door one, two, three times. Nobody answers. He waits a moment before taking the courage to get it. When he does, he isn’t surprised to see that the room is not neat at all.

Arthur can the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom. He breathes in deeply, teeth clenched, and after telling himself he can do this, he opens the door. Eames ins standing under the roof shower, body leaned against the wall, forehead pressed against the tiles. He watches him with attention and realizes he was new tattoos over his body, like one he has on his ribs, under his right arm.

The English man doesn’t seem to notice he is there, so he takes advantage of that. Trying not to make any noises, he starts walking towards where he is. He doesn’t really mind that he is wearing cotton pants, he doesn’t mind either that he will get soaked.The only thing he wants right now, the only important thing, is reaching Eames. He stops behind him and leans in to kiss the union of Eames’ neck and shoulder, breathing in his natural scent, feeling the way his muscles tense underneath his mouth. Them, he grabs him by the arms and makes him spin around so they are facing each other, and before the English can say anything, he kisses him on the lips. Arthur parts Eames’ mouth using his own lips, and whines in pleasure when Eames grabs him by the nape with one of his hands to kiss him deeper, teeth clenching against his. Eames feels Arthur’s tongue licking inside, exploring with eagerness his mouth, and everything is just too much. He turns off the water with his free hands and manages to wrap his arms around Arthur, bringing closer to him, feeling his clothed cock against his own erection. Arthur moans inside his mouth and the sound goes directly to his dick, making him even harder than he already is, so he grinds against him. They manage to get, clumsily, into he room with out breaking the kiss, and they bump into some furniture before falling over the bed.

Eames stares at Arthur with hooded eyes, who’s pupils are also blown up. Arthur breathes in before pulling down Eames by the neck so he can kiss him again, and gasps when Eames moves his mouth to his jaw and then his neck.

“Fucking hell” he breathes in, shutting his eyes. “Eames, please, I need you now.”

“Fuck, yeah, okay…Damn it, Artie, you’re so bloody hot.” he replies and Arthur’s stomach does a backflip because Eames has just called him Artie again.

Eames trails opened mouthed kissed all across Arthur’s chest and stops when he gets to his belly. He pulls down, with difficulty, Arthur’s soaked pants that stick insistently against his skin, and then, with out any warning, he takes him down. Arthur moans in pleasure, squirming against the mattress. Eames stops what he is doing for a moment to explore him with his cold fingers. He takes his time to prepare him, ripping a loud moan out of him, making sure he is enjoying this as much as he can. Arthur’s heavy breathes push him to go deeper, to go quicker.

“Give me your third finger already, c’mon, Eames!”

“Mhm…do you really want it, Arthur?” he teases, nibbling the skin on his hips.

“Now!”

“Greedy.” he purrs, “So greedy, Artie.” but he obliges anyway, because he wants Arthur to keep on screaming in pleasure.

“Jesus.” he chants, chest is rising up and down heavily. “Eames, please”

“Please, what?” he asks. He already knows what he wants, but he wants him to say it.

“Just get inside me and fuck me already.” Eames crawls over him and leans his mouth over the shell of his ear. “I want you to ride, me, Arthur. Can you do that for me, darling? Can you take me?” he slurs.

“Fuck, yeah, yeah I can, Eames. Yeah I can.”

Eames smirks and sits, leaning his back over the headboard. “Come here, Artie.” he says, smiling at him.

Arthur does as told and adjusts himself over Eames’ before sinking down, making Eames groan. Arthur tangles his arms around Eames’ neck to find some stability and starts moving up and down, moaning as he bites Eames’ neck.

“Kiss me.” Eames grunts, and Arthur obeys. Or at least he tries to, because it’s more lips brushing messily against each other than really kissing. Eames thrusts his hips up and swallows Arthur’s moan, thrusting up again, and again, and again. Suddenly, are both moving their hips and chanting into each other’s mouth, Arthur’s nails digging in Eames’ scalp.

“I’m so close, Eames.” he breathes in heavily.

“Me too. You don’t even know how good you feel, Arthur, do you? How amazing and hot you feel around me.” he slurs back, as he sneaks in his hand between their bodies to give Arthur even more pleasure. He only needs to touch him once before Arthur is exploding of pleasure. Eames kisses Arthur’s chin as he explodes, too, filling him up more than he already is.

Arthur collapses against Eames’ body, leaning himself against him, breathing in and out. Once he has recovered his breathe, he goes to the bathroom to look for a wet flannel to clean both him and Eames. After that, he slides into bed with him, resting his head over his chest. Eames turns on the light of his bedside table and then picks one of his cigarettes, turning it on as well. He takes a drag and then, he gives the cigarette to him. Arthur wasn’t really a smoker. He only smoked after fucking with Eames, so doing this after five years makes him nostalgic.

“I missed being like this with you.” he says once he has turned off the cigarette they finished in the silence of the night.

“Me too” he admits, tracing his fingertips over Arthur’s upper arms. “Remind me why it didn’t work.”

“Because we took different paths.” he lets out in a sigh. Eames is staring at him and he can't help but staring at how beautiful he looks, with his flushed cheeks and his lips even more plump than usual because Arthur bit them all, with his hair over his forehead. 

“You know, I never really understood why you didn’t want to come with me.”

“I don’t know, Eames…I was young, I was confortable there, I liked what I did and-“ he stops for a moment and licks his lips, because what he is about to say is something he never admitted out loud. “And I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?” he asks, rising up his eyebrow.

“Of what I felt about you. Every time I had less control over my emotions, over my feelings and thoughts. And I got afraid.” he wet laughs. “You always knew I like being in control. Not about the situation or whatever, but yes over me and my feelings.”

“Yes, but Arthur…you can’t be in control over your feelings all the fucking time. That’d be impossible. You’d be a robot otherwise.”

Arthur rolls over his place and supports his weight over his arms so he can look him at the eyes.

“With you it is impossible. I’m so weak when it comes to you, I just lose control.” he licks his lips and brushes them over Eames’ shoulder. His sin feels smooth and hot. “But that’s okay. I know it, now.”

“Well, yeah…I was never able to keep control of myself when I was with you, either. Still am not.” he chuckles. “And anyways, I owe an apologize, Artie. It was really selfish of my part asking you to leave everything and go to Mombassa with me. I’m really sorry, now I get why were you so angry.”

“It’s okay.” he smiles at him, crinkle by his eyes, and Eames can’t help but smiling back at him. Arthur brushes his fingers over the tattoo he discovered a few hours ago. “This one is new. It’s written in Swahili, isn’t?” he asks. He doesn’t really know the language but he can recognize it, and considering Eames stayed in Mombassa for five years, he isn’t really surprised by the choice. Eames nods. “What does it mean?” he wants to know.

“Don’t let love go.” he looks at him. Arthur smiles at him. “I have another tattoo you've never seen, you know?”

“Really? Which one?” he asks,

Eames lifts up his left arm and shows him the tattoo he has on his inner bicep.

“A dice.” Arthur breathes. It’s his totem. Eames nods, nose trills wide opened. “When did you get it?”

Eames stays quiet for a second and then replies, trembling voice “Five years ago”

And that is the only thing he needs to say.Arthur leans himself over him to give him a bruising kiss, sucking in his lower lip.

“I never stopped loving you, Eames. Not a single day, no matter how much I tried.”

“Never did I, Arthur. I’m still so bloody in love with you, don't I'll ever stop.” and then he is kissing him desperately again.

Eames and Arthur are as different as the sun and the moon, but despite the odds, they love each other madly.

**Author's Note:**

> SOOOOO, THOUGHTS? Flowers? Tomatoes? Kudos? if you liked it, please leave your kuddo and your comment, as I'd love to know your opinion!


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